


The Long Night

by Lohare



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:42:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lohare/pseuds/Lohare
Summary: Nora Thellath had fought like many Nightborne to reclaim her city, alongside the heroes of both the alliance and Horde. Like many of her people, she had a touch for the arcane; perhaps more than others as such being disconnected from her source had almost driven her to the breaking point... almost.She trusted Thalyssra with her life and would proudly follow her into their new dawning future, but when the call had come that they would fight alongside the horde, Nora had faltered.A tale of two nightborne tested in their own ways by the war between the Alliance and the Horde. Slowburn, eventual romance.





	The Long Night

Nora Thellath had fought like many Nightborne to reclaim her city, alongside the heroes of both the alliance and Horde. Like many of her people, she had a touch for the arcane; perhaps more than others as such being disconnected from her source had almost driven her to the breaking point... almost.

She trusted Thalyssra with her life and would proudly follow her into their new dawning future, but when the call had come that they would fight alongside the horde, Nora had faltered.

She had formed almost a familiar bond with many of the Blood Elves yes, but the other races of the horde seemed far more... primal.

This was all before she’d come to know of Lo’s existence of course but the fear had still been there, a fear which had only doubled upon itself after her first visit to the Horde capital of Orgrimmar, but it was on those dried, dusty grounds she first laid eyes on the woman whom called herself Lo.

Lo had been one of many Nightborne to venture to the capital with herself and Thalyssra, meeting the undead warchief and the many warriors of the horde. In fact, she’d barely noticed Lo because she gave off little to nothing in terms of an arcane signature. It was only when an Orc warrior had pushed straight past her and greeted Lo that she had attracted her attention.

It was also then that Nora had noticed her body; her dark skin was covered in scars from battle. Her eyes settled on a large, ugly scar that crawled its way up Lo’s arm. She turned to her armor next, which lacked the usual flair of Nightborne armor, of which hers was the heavy variant. It was dull, chipped and cracked in many areas and bore the telltale signs of demon blood.

A lot of demon blood.

In fact it was the first time she’d ever heard Lo speak, she spoke in a broken version of the horde’s language but furthermore used a very simplified version of their own language... in fact Nora would go as far to say she could probably speak better to her newfound orc friend than she could with the other Nightborne.

Their meeting continued, but Nora found herself becoming less and less interested in the dealings at hand and more focused on Lo. She knew as well as the rest that wasn’t even her real name, which only added to the allure of the woman. In turn, Lo had earned the favour of many of the Horde with the few words she’d even bothered to speak... a feat which had not been so smoothly recreated by Thalyssra.

They all knew trust would be hard come by after Ellisande’s rule.

**************  
When the time of the initial confrontation with the alliance had come months later, Nora had not attended. By any right she wasn’t ready to face the grizzled veterans of the alliance on the battlefield; a gifted arcanist? Yes. But a skilled fighter? No.  
However, Lo was absent.

Nora had eventually asked around about her newfound interest but in turn received more shrugs and denials than anything else. Nobody seemed to recognise or know of her.  
It would be another few weeks until she’d see Lo again, when Thalyssra had sent her to the warfront to assist other mages around the main base camp. Never had Nora felt so out of place, which must have been clearly evident as a grizzled old trolled cackled at her as she nervously walked past. His weathered armor and brutal scars reminded her of Lo.

She paused then as a wave of gasps came through the camp, her eyes drawn to source. It was Lo, returning from the battlefield. In turn, her armor had changed entirely and fresh new wounds dotted her skin. In place of her worn Nightborne armor she had donned a full set of the Horde’s own gladiator armor, which had already become scratched and worn in some places. A dark cloak flowed behind her and in turn a night elf was dragged through the sand behind that, kicking and screaming violently. She cursed at Lo in a language most of them, she assumed Lo as well, couldn’t understand.

This drew the attention of Nathos Blightcaller, his face twisted into a vicious smirk.

“Well done, Warrior.” Nathanos commented dryly, looking to a pair of the forsaken guards nearby and ushering them to take the night elf away. As Lo passed the chains over, the night elf delivered a swift kick to one of the guards and bolted for it.

She didn’t make it far.

Lo hauled the night elf off of her feet, slamming her into one of the nearby stone walls with a disturbing ease. The night elf dropped back into the sand, gasping for air. Nora noticed the way the wall had cracked, noticing in turn the ease at which Lo had responded.

It clicked in her mind just what Lo was.

But it wouldn’t be explained to her until almost a sodden, downtrodden month later.

The days turned to weeks and Lo made few appearances. Like many of the strongest warriors of the horde, they spent most of their time out on the battlefield pushing at the front lines or defending their further outposts meanwhile Nora stayed behind to help with summoning troops to the front lines and just about anything else the mages asked of her.

Although few rarely spoke to her, beyond a few blood elves.

Instead of returning, Nathanos had sent her with a group to help defend a shipment going to one of the further out stations on a dark, rainy day. She had moved to protest but a swift grasp from one of the blood elf paladins warned her not to. So she went.  
It had been mostly uneventful until their leader, that same old grizzled troll who had mocked her as she’d first arrived paused. He growled, lowering his stance.

“We ain’t alone out here, mon.” He whispered the rest of their party dropping into a similar stance. The troll’s senses had been right as night elves swarmed out from the trees with a blistering vengeance.

The violence wasn’t new to Nora, but the way she froze up as the enemy tore through their ranks, led by one of the wardens , was definitely new. Her magic abandoned her in her most needed moment, too scared to do anything as her members fought back with a brutish vigilance.

One Night elf came for her, at the same moment a roar was let out nearby, but never made contact as his armor shattered. Lo was in front of her immediately, shield brought up to deflect a spell back at a mage and her sword already plunged deep into the gut of a rogue.

Lo was as ruthless as the orcs and trolls Nora had grown to hate, her strength unmatched as she slammed another into the ground with an audible crack of bone.  
“There you are, traitor!” The warden spat, charging Lo through the battle.

It was easy to tell that Lo was outclassed by the warden. She’d already taken one too many hits before the fight had really begun, but what was evident was her ability to stand up and fight again and again, and again.

Nora watched, frozen, as Lo was thrown against the stone cliff face nearby, landing unsteady on her feet but still somehow managing to pull herself together to deliver a blow that broke the Warden’s helmet. “How dare you!” The warden screamed, recoiling back a few steps. “You’ve killed my sisters, captured them for those twisted, undead monsters. You are no warrior!” the warden bellowed, charging anew.

Nora could see that Lo was slower than usual raising her defenses, stumbling back from blow after blow and barely managing a strike in return.

It didn’t take long for the warden to catch Lo with her guard down, her war glaive almost meeting the newly exposed flesh on Lo’s stomach.

But it never did.

Instead Nora found her own arm outstretched, fire coming forth and slamming into the warden. Her glaive dropped to one side as she hit the caravan. Not a moment later Lo drove her sword deep into the warden’s chest.  
Lo watched as the warden cursed her with her final words, blood pooling and falling from her mouth. She too collapsed into the mud, soaked in both rain and blood as the battle died down around them. Barely held up one knee she looked to the dead warden, freeing her sword from her chest.

A few of their fellow caravan managers had fallen, a few more injured but they had survived.

Nora moved to help Lo up, but instead found herself pushed away. The warrior rose, stumbling a few steps but managing herself. The exhaustion was plain on her face but she carried on, hauling the warden’s corpse over her shoulder as she tucked her blade away.

“You don’t understand.” Lo snapped at her, in fluent common. It was the first words she’d ever spoken to her.

Nora remained silent the rest of the short journey to the outpost. Lo lead the pack now, walking alongside the troll as defiant as she’s always been.  
When they got to the outpost and the healers started to tend to their wounds, and Nathanos had been informed of another warden’s corpse, Nora approached Lo again. Lo’s dark hair was wet and damp, perhaps adding further more to the exhausted warrior’s demeanour.

Lo sighed as she turned her gaze away focusing on the fire instead. There was silence as the sun began to set. Nora knew she didn’t belong here, Nora knew she didn’t understand; she never had, in fact she’d been falling behind ever since she’d walked through the stout gates of Orgrimmar.

“I want to understand.” Nora eventually spoke up, using her elven tongue. Lo looked to her, frowned and turned back to the fire.

“I don’t speak that language anymore.” Lo grumbled, stoking the fire. Her shoulders lowered somewhat, still strapped up in her massive plate armor. She was a slight taller than Nora but she looked like a giant compared to the arcanist.  
“I want to understand.” Nora re-spoke her words in the common tongue, her pronunciation a little bit scruffy. Lo chuckled a little bit, turning her gaze to Nora.

“We’ve- you’ve lived inside the bubble for a thousand years without having to worry yourself, these people, my horde, have. They’ve fought for their very existence since the day they stepped foot here.” Lo explained, her voice seemingly rougher than Nora had remembered.

Nora moved to argue, but stopped herself as Lo’s gaze turned almost bitter and angry. “We’re not an army, we’re not a kingdom. In the Horde there is only your own strength and the strength of your brothers and sisters. Nothing else matters. That is what you don’t understand.” Lo continued, the stick in her hand crunching in her grip.

“You’re family...” Nora whispered, her eyes drawn to that same old troll who sat on the far side of camp cackling away as a grunt told him stories; a veteran and a rookie.

“I was born with weak magical capabilities; your people shunned me, made a fool of me and made me nothing more than a servant. They boldly assume magic is everything.” Lo spat, this revelation dawned on Nora as she thought back to her city. “I killed enough mages to prove otherwise when we retook the city. What is magic compared to the strength of your own back? You once called me Unde Fethundal, but I abandoned that name when you threw me out of the barrier for my lack of magical abilities.” Lo spat, picking up a new stick to poke at the fire. “Yet, the Horde accepted me with open arms as their sister. All they ask of me is my loyalty, which I will happily give.”

Silence passed for a while as Nora thought over that name. It was one she’d recognised, a family who had been well established as arcanists, she’d even studied under somebody with that name.

“I’m sorry...” Nora whispered. “I’m sorry you’ve gone through that.” She added hesitantly. Lo sighed again, turning her dark gaze to Nora. Nora couldn’t help but notice a fresh scar that had almost taken her left eye.

“Don’t apologize.” Lo whispered, the exhaustion evident in her voice. “Don’t see these people as monsters, see their struggles and see that they’re willing to accept you despite your own.” Lo continued. “Just open your eyes, then you’ll understand why I fight.” Lo added.

Nora’s gaze was drawn back to that old troll again, wondering how many wars he’d seen, wondering how many people he’d watched die, how many of them were his horde brothers and sisters? “They’re a rough family... but they’re a family.” Lo mumbled, just about managing to stand up from the log where she’d been sitting.

She hobbled a few steps, her body still weak and injured until the healers had time to work their magic on the rest of her wounds. “You have the makings of a true fighter in you, yet.” Were Lo’s words before she hobbled off to the bunks, which Nora would later find out they shared.

Nora stayed awake a while, deciding to listen to some of the old troll’s tall tales. Just as Lo had said, she was accepted into his circle with open arms. She laughed long into the night alongside the warriors of the horde.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I've decided to come back with a bit of a more casual approach. Will update this as I feel, I hope you enjoy :)


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